


Tan Lines

by ChillieBean



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mild Language, Team as Family, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 18:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16917639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean
Summary: Prompt: Jesse realising Hanzo got a few weird tan lines after the Dorado mission, the diagonal chest line of the kyudo gi





	Tan Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt asked by dimensionwitch on Tumblr

Jesse sighs as he sits on the couch in the safehouse, plucking his hat off his head and fanning himself. They have just spent nine hours baking under the Mexican sun, the mission was surveillance as a payload was moved through the city. It meant being on the move, no shelter from the elements. “Forgot how unforgiving the sun can be here,” he murmurs, eyes settling on Genji sitting on the opposite couch as he unfastens his armour.

“You should not have worn all your layers, then,” Genji replies, not making eye contact.

“Least I didn’t need sunscreen. I’ll take the sweat and risk of overheating to applying that shit.”

“That ‘shit’ will save your life one day,” Angie retorts from behind him. He cranes his neck, giving her a wink. “If I ever find out that you  _ don’t  _ put on sun protection, I will haul your ass into the medbay and give you a two-hour lecture on proper sun safety.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jesse mutters, placing his hat on the couch to take off his serape, unwrapping it from his shoulders before unclasping his chest plate, placing that on the couch too. He frowns, smelling his own body odour, and he looks at the bathroom door, hearing the shower. Hanzo is still in there.

Throwing caution to the wind, knowing he could overheat if he keeps the kevlar on, he unbuttons his shirt and peels off his kevlar. It’s so wet he could wring the sweat out of it, he scrunches his nose and bundles it in his shirt, opting to lounge shirtless until Hanzo’s done with his shower.

Angie places one electrolyte drink down on the coffee table in front of Genji, handing him the other. “One now, another in an hour.”

“Thanks,” he says, taking it.

She sits next to him, scanner in her hands, and aims it at his chest. “Heart rate and blood pressure normal. Any weakness, cramps, nausea, lightheadedness or headaches?”

“Naw, nothing like that.” Jesse winks when she meets his eyes, pulling the scanner away. “I grew up in this heat, I can handle it.”

“Dry heat is the worst,” Genji mutters. He picks up the electrolyte drink and downs the lot in a series of quick gulps. “I was in head-to-toe armour and my skin feels dry.”

“Better than humid heat,” Jesse replies. “At least with dry heat you can sit in the shade and actually feel cool. Humid heat is hot, no matter where you go to seek shelter.”

“I grew up in humid heat,” Genji says thoughtfully, sitting back onto the couch in nothing but a pair of lycra shorts. “It is bad, but I prefer it.”

“Well spare a thought for me,” Angie says, sitting next to Genji and scanning him. “The hottest it gets in Switzerland in summer is 30 degrees Celsius. These temperatures, 48, 49 degrees, my body is unaccustomed to it.”

“Are you going to be okay, Angela?”

“I am fine. And so are you,” she says to Genji, smiling. Then it drops and she wrinkles her nose. “Though showers as quick as we can. It smells like a gym in here.”

As if waiting for the cue, the shower shuts off. Hanzo raced in there the second they stepped foot in the safehouse, claiming he was going to stand under ice cold water until hypothermia set in. Angie didn’t even have a chance to check him, though he had said that he had experienced heatstroke in the past and knows what to look out for. She seemed unconvinced, and knowing Angie, she’ll pounce on him the second he is out of the bathroom.

The bathroom door unlocks and Angie stands. Jesse holds his hand out, sees a glimpse of Hanzo heading further into the safehouse in nothing but a towel around his waist.

“Give him a minute, he didn’t grab his clothes.” He looks at them and grins. “And dibs on the next shower.”

“Please,” Genji groans. “You stink.”

“Yeah, well,” Jesse says, holding the glass up to his mouth, “a day under the unforgiving Dorado sun makes the best of us sweat.” He downs the drink, placing the glass back on the coffee table. “Thanks, Angie.” He picks up his clothing, leaves the room and approaches their shared sleeping space. The door is ajar, and Jesse knocks cautiously, hoping he’s given Hanzo enough time. “You decent?”

“Yes.”

Jesse smiles, opening the door. Hanzo’s sitting on the bed in a pair of shorts and applying a moisturiser to his skin, and Jesse closes the door behind him gently, tosses his clothes and armour to his bed before sitting next to Hanzo. “How’re you holding up?” he asks, brushing his shoulder against Hanzo’s.

“Fine,” Hanzo replies, smiling. He leans in, and they share a quick kiss. What they have is new, no one knows about it yet, and Jesse intends to keep it that way as long as he can.

“You smell good.”

Hanzo holds out his tattooed arm. “After sun cream.”

“Yeah, gonna need it.” He can see just how tanned his shoulder is now. “Wish you were more covered though, your gi leaves half of you exposed.”

“Angela made sure I was adequately protected.”

“She’s out there champing at the bit to examine you. Got electrolytes ready to go.”

“I suppose I should not keep her waiting then.” Hanzo caps the cream and stands, and Jesse has to suppress a snort. Hanzo’s not burned, which is a good thing at the very least, but he is very clearly tanned—the parts of him that were exposed to the sun in any case—with a long diagonal line across his chest that jarringly contrasts against his natural skin tone.

“Did you apply the sunscreen on time?”

“I did when I had the chance, the mission was more important.”

Jesse doesn’t say anything, just stares at that damn diagonal line on Hanzo’s chest, and has to hold back a tide of laughter when Hanzo turns his back on him, seeing the even more obvious line across his back. Hanzo must know its there, there’s no way he could shower and  _ not  _ see it.

He decides not to say anything about it, Hanzo’s going to cop an earful from Angie the second she sees him. But Jesse does get his phone ready, and the second Hanzo turns back round, he snaps a photo.

“Couldn’t resist,” he says, looking at it and smiling.

“You are lucky I like you,” Hanzo murmurs, t-shirt in his hand as he approaches Jesse, standing on his toes and kissing him again. Jesse smiles when Hanzo’s hands settle on his waist, and Jesse drapes his arms over his shoulders, holding him close. The kiss deepens, and Hanzo’s hands glide up Jesse’s sides to settle on his chest. “And it is a shame we are in the safehouse.”

Jesse cannot help but smile, looking into Hanzo’s eyes. “One more day,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. “And you should get out there before they work out what we’re doing in here.”

Hanzo hums, hands sliding down Jesse’s chest and stomach before taking a step back. “Enjoy your shower.” Hanzo slides on his t-shirt and leaves the room, and Jesse grins at the picture on his phone. The more he sees Hanzo with his awkward tan lines, the funnier it’s going to get.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/BeanChillie)


End file.
